A Simple Bit of Nonsense

The dream. It has got to be post-high school, for all the players were from my high school. I think. I’m trying to fry eggs, and get them to these men, and talk to them because I had not seen them since we were in high school (so yes, post high school, but who knows how long as dreams tend to not be dated material). I cannot remember most of it, as in all dreams we only remember snippets by the time we are fully awake, unless we have the pen and paper beside the bed (and then I’d have to write in the dark, no, that will not work). I remember I was trying to talk to them, I was delighted to see them after many years (which dates ME, as I graduated from high school almost 50 years ago), I wanted to talk to them. I wanted to find out how they were, and what were they doing, I had not seen them since high school. Come to think of it, I had not ever seen them since, no reunions, nothing. I had not really thought too much about them. The one boy I have driven by his childhood home almost daily, but it’s only once in awhile I think about him. I know his mother died recently. His brother had passed on a few years back.

At any rate, that was the dream. I call it a bit of nonsense, because I have no idea where this came from inside of my brain. What longing? What bit of validation am I trying to require in my life, that should produce such a dream as this? Or, maybe it’s simply a bit of nonsense, something my personal computer (the brain) is working out the kinks.

The Dreamer

I was reading about dreams in the wee hours of the morning, sleep escaping through the lashes of my lids, as the cold wind brought the change of weather.

I did go into a lucid thought of Dad saying something as he was working on perhaps a repair, in a brief spot of dream, but it did not stay, I was awake!

Some dreams are nonsense, others create a deja vu later. Some, if you are fortunate (or not), are clairvoyant, and some prophetic.

Mine are a little clairvoyant, I think. Probably because they involve the dear departed to me: a grandmother, a grandfather I never met (and did not resemble any of his pictures, by the way), a friend here and there, that have come at odd times.

At any rate, it appears half the night was dreamless, as I awaited All Souls’ Day!

The Dream

I dreamt my parents were getting re-married.  My father arrived in a colonial blue golf shirt that had been hanging up in the closet too long.  Incredibly dusty, as I beat out the dust I wondered if he would be dressed up enough. I myself had a dress, my sister had a “better dress” one that resembled that of a flower girl, creamy white satin with curlique’s of white on the bodice and a little pink satin flower….I was supposed to be the maid of honor and my sister’s comment was that we should trade dresses.  She could not be maid of honor as she was still nursing a child.  Somehow there was a cake involved.  I kept having to go here and go there, and not just a run around town, it was MILES away everything that was needed.  We finally all were there and ready to take our places.

That’s all I’ve got.  I don’t remember my mother there, any other siblings, but there was other people there.

Why do we dream what we do?  Honestly, I’d requested, before I went to sleep, that I’d have a revelation as to where I left my Jabra earpiece, my answer to not having a smart phone planted next to my brain.  I guess that dream is lost in the spaces of my mind.  Well, at least, the Jabra is.

Anyway, I needed to record this dream, in hopes that I’d recover more of it.  And there you have it.

I had a dream…

We are nostalgic, I think, not for old times, but for old dreams.

–Robert Brault

Our dreams can be many things, but I tend to think that MY dreams are my subconscious, attempting to work out conflicting issues, or perhaps remembering an instance, whether it be good or bad, and working through it.  So I do not take them seriously as “signs.”

I enjoy my dreams, for the most part.  Once in awhile I enjoy leaving them.  Randomly I dream about haunted houses (spooky and I awaken frightened), seeing people that were dead and aren’t.  They are usually doing something, not looking at me, but I am looking at them.  Again, it’s my soul working it out.  Once I had this strange dream about a grandfather I’d never met.  I said, “I thought you were dead, that’s what everyone said.”  He just said, “I know, but I’m not.”  I found my grandmother and told her and said, “you said he was dead.”  She said, “I know…he’s not.”  (Makes you want to laugh, doesn’t it?)

I have read that we are the universe.  This is true to an extent, no one can experience the same thing we experience, their perspective is different, they are standing next to you, so they see everything from an entirely different point of view, even at those few feet.  So, we see things from our own perspective and make use (or dispose) of the experience in our life.

While this quote by Robert Brault is probably written with experiences in mind, I found it to be an answer to my random dreams.